


Free Advice

by colorcoded



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: (with feelings on both sides but Odo is too dense to pick up on either of them), Casual Sex, Experienced/Inexperienced, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Some Humor, hopefully??? I tried to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorcoded/pseuds/colorcoded
Summary: Set during the beginning part of The Ascent. Stuck on an 8-day shuttlecraft journey with only Odo for company? Quark is starting to crack. And so is Odo.
Relationships: Odo/Quark (Star Trek)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 48
Collections: Quodo Mini-fest





	Free Advice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightandpinot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightandpinot/gifts).



> I always thought Quark and Odo being stuck on a shuttlecraft and/or planet alone together would inevitably lead to them boning. Canon didn't give me this so I had to write it. Maybe a bit AU as I'm not sure how the rest of The Ascent would play out after this happens. o_o

At the beginning, Odo couldn't think of any trip he had anticipated more than this one. Eight days was long enough to see Quark slowly crack under the pressure of finally having to face the consequences of his life of petty crime, and Odo wanted to see every minute of it play out. Up until this point, Quark had done an impressive job of weaseling his way out of most of the consequences (admittedly, some of those close escapes had been due to Odo's own interventions, when keeping Quark out of trouble served his own purposes as well). But it looked like Quark had finally made one misstep too many, and it was all catching up to him.

And the Ferengi _was_ cracking under the pressure, that was clear. The part that Odo hadn't taken into account was that, only a couple of days into the trip, _he_ was beginning to crack too. Odo had failed to realize before embarking on this trip that it would be eight full days with only Quark for company—with Quark as _constant_ company. Quark was irritating even when he wasn't trying to get on Odo's bad side, and when he was in a bad mood and had no fear of getting on Odo's bad side, well, he was insufferable.

At the end of the third day of travel, Quark began to make motions indicating he was going to bed soon—yawning and stretching, then moving to the rear of the runabout, where he changed into pajamas and began grooming his teeth. Odo followed a few minutes later.

"Odo, you know you don't have to sleep during the same hours I do," Quark said from his bunk when Odo entered the back room.

"Hmph, I prefer it this way," Odo replied. The only time Odo didn't have to keep an eye on Quark was when the Ferengi was fast asleep, after all. It was true that was _also_ the only time Quark was quiet and not complaining... But, well, Odo was a professional. If he had to sacrifice some hours of peace and quiet for keeping a closer eye on Quark, so be it.

Though Odo did not voice these thoughts aloud, Quark understood them well enough. "What, you think I'm gonna try to escape while you're sleeping?"

Odo gave a derisive snort. "I wouldn't put it past you." Every night before he turned in, he made sure to lock most of the computer controls with his codes, but Quark always had tricks up his sleeves, so even that wasn't entirely a guarantee against Quark changing their course or making a call while Odo was sleeping.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. You'll see, I'll get out of this, just like I have all the other times."

"Hrmph," Odo said, putting all his skepticism into the single syllable. Having finished his own preparations for sleeping, he climbed into his own bunk opposite Quark's. "Computer, dim lights," he said as he drew the privacy screens mostly shut—he liked to keep the screens open a crack so that he could see if Quark left his bed.

Not fifteen minutes had passed when this was exactly what happened. With a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Quark stomped to the nearest computer terminal and began pressing buttons. "Odo, did you mess with the environment controls again? It's _freezing_ in here."

Odo rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated growl. Admittedly, he _had_ turned down the temperature settings on a couple of occasions over the past few days just to spite Quark, but he hadn't messed with the settings since Quark had changed them during dinner; this time at least, Quark was simply being paranoid.

"There, that should do it," Quark said, returning to his bed once more.

Odo thought that would be the end of it and shut his eyes to try to fall asleep, but as he settled back comfortably against the pillow, the Ferengi's voice piped up again from across the room.

"Hey Odo, something I've been wondering—"

Odo let out a loud sigh. "Please, Quark, do we have to do this? Can't we just fall asleep in complete silence? Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Nope, can't say I've ever been able to fall asleep without at least half an hour of soothing bedside conversation first," Quark said innocently.

Odo let out another deep sigh. "Fine, Quark, what is it you would like to talk about tonight?" he said in the tone an indulgent teacher might use on a child.

"Like I was saying," Quark continued, undeterred, "I was wondering if you've ever, you know... gotten yourself off while reading your erotic novels. Or at least done a bit of touching—"

"Good _night_ , Quark."

"—for research purposes, of course! I assume a finely honed detective's mind like yours requires a detailed understanding of the physiological effects of arousal and desire."

Odo balled a handful of his blanket inside a fist. It had been such a mistake to allow Quark to get his hands on that PADD. Odo had given him an opening and it was inevitable that this kind of mocking would follow.

"You know, being solid really is a blessing—an opportunity, if you will. I'm assuming—I mean, correct me if I'm wrong—that you've never had reproductive parts before. They're not exactly needed for your job, after all, so why bother creating them, am I right?"

Odo raised himself on an elbow, his eyes narrowing in the dim room in the direction of Quark's bunk. Having known Quark for years, Odo had an almost instinctive understanding of the bartender's mannerisms, and what had started unmistakably as mocking had segued into something more like salespitch. "Where is this going, Quark?" Odo ventured cautiously.

"I'm merely saying, the Founders have been so generous as to give you a complex bit of uh... machinery, and I'm surprised you haven't taken it on a test flight yet."

Odo rolled his eyes. Leave it to Quark to make body parts sound like some kind of spaceship.

"I'm assuming of course," Quark added quickly. "Again, correct me if I'm wrong."

Frustratingly, Quark hadn't missed the mark yet. He was right that Odo had never bothered making reproductive organs—he had never seen a reason to—and he had correctly guessed that Odo hadn't yet explored that particular aspect of his new humanoid body. If Odo was being honest, he had to admit that a part of him _was_ curious... but it had always been low-priority. And just a little bit intimidating. Odo adjusted his blankets under his arms and huffed. "I'm a very busy man, and frankly, there are better uses of my time."

"Really? On the station, I can believe that, but here? Now? I wasn't aware you had any work to do right now other than chaperoning me. For _five more days_. You're really going to spend it, what, reading old crime reports and bland romance novels?"

"How I spend my time is none of your business."

"True enough. Just thought you might appreciate some free advice."

"I'll let you know when I want advice from you, Quark," Odo snapped.

"All right, all right. Fine."

A blessed silence filled the room, one that should have come as a relief to Odo, but he found it hard to revel in it. Quark was irritating and he was obviously acting out of pure self-interest—however much he would claim otherwise—but, at least for the moment, he didn't seem to be purposely _trying_ to needle Odo, and he also wasn't entirely wrong... Odo had had hundreds of opportunities to experiment with this new aspect of his new solid form—it wouldn't have been any more embarrassing than his tentative explorations of unfamiliar genres of literature with dubious relevance to his line of work, or his clumsy first experiences with ordering food. And yet somehow it was easier to explore the emotional dimensions of sex and romantic relationships when it was in a fictional story on a computer; easier to explore the functions of his body when, well, it was either that or starvation.

But why? Why should it bother him so much? When he was a changeling, his physiology had always—from the moment he first became conscious—attracted attention and fascination in a way that Odo hated. But now he was "normal." His physiology no longer caused people to bat an eyelash. His biology was no longer a gulf between him and other solids. And yet Odo _still_ behaved as if every tiny thing his body did attracted the scrutiny of everyone on the station, still held himself apart from everyone else. Why couldn't he unlearn that instinct? Why was he still so terrified?

And Quark... that was the other thing bothering Odo: Quark had obviously been angling for something just now, and the most immediate theory that leapt to Odo's mind was obviously... no, that just couldn't be right. Sure, Quark was cracking, deprived of all forms of what he considered entertainment—holosuites, card games, gambling games, even the uninspiring whinging of his customers—and facing the very real possibility of a long prison sentence, but even he wouldn't be so desperate.

 _Is it really so surprising?_ came the thought, unbidden, from the part of Odo's mind that knew Quark well and could predict his actions. _He's not like you. He's a man that lives for pleasure, in whatever way it can be acquired._ Odo recalled the way that Quark, during the past couple of days, had attempted repeatedly to draw Odo into a card game or a conversation despite how Odo was far from the ideal partner for either. At the time, he had just assumed Quark had done it expressly to pester him.

 _Not everything revolves around you,_ came that inner voice again.

That unsettling silence hung thickly in the air as Odo stared into the darkness and felt the roughness of the blanket between his fingers and felt his throat tighten—"dry out" as solids often termed it—and imagined for just a moment what it would feel like if Quark were here in the same bed as him, poised above him, his weight pressing Odo into the bed.

He could only hold the image in his mind for an instant. It was madness. It was—too much. He hated it and he hated himself for conjuring the image. With an angry noise, Odo rolled over so that he was facing the wall, legs curled up. Aggravatingly, brief as the image had been, Odo's body was responding, the member between his legs pulsing with fresh blood. He tried his best to ignore it.

"Uh, Odo?" Quark's voice came from the other side of the room. "You all right?"

Odo covered his ear with an arm and shut his eyes tight, trying to block out the noise, waiting for silence to fill the space again.

"Odo?"

When Quark spoke again, his voice was closer, near the ground just outside Odo's bunk. Odo could almost _feel_ his presence. He was too close, and Odo could feel panic rising up in his throat. "Go _away,_ Quark!" he growled, his voice cracking, then immediately regretted it, wishing he could take the words back. _Don't go._

No, Quark definitely wasn't the only person on this ship who was cracking.

There was a brief silence, and then Quark just said, "No."

Now _that_ was done purely to piss Odo off, he was sure. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Then Quark spoke up again, incredulous, "You're really going to let me get away with that? Odo, what's _wrong?"_

Odo uncurled his fingers, letting the tension in his arms drain away. He could hear the words leave him before he was even aware he was forming them. "Can you teach me... how to do it."

"Do what?" Then: "...Oh." He could hear Quark shifting nervously outside the bed. When he spoke again, he sounded more hesitant than Odo could recall Quark being. "If you're sure—I mean, _are_ you sure?"

"As long as you swear not to tell anyone—"

"I won't tell a soul." The words came out in a rush.

That Odo believed. Quark could keep a secret—he wouldn't get far in his line of work if he couldn't. (And he wouldn't live long if Odo found out he didn't.)

"So," Quark continued, tentative, "how do we want to do this?"

Odo uncurled a bit, turning in Quark's direction, fingers fidgeting over a part of the blanket. "I... I don't know."

"Right, of course. Uh... well, first thing, it helps to have an image or scene in your head. Like that scene from that novel you were reading—"

Odo let out a huff of frustration. "It doesn't work. I find it... a deeply unpleasant experience."

"All right then, that's fine. You can do it without fantasizing."

"Really?"

"Just focus on the physical sensations. Here, we'll take it... very slowly."

As Quark carefully slid the blinds open, Odo rolled over fully onto his back, his arms crossed over his abdomen, feeling much like a patient laid out on a biobed, waiting for their doctor to give a diagnosis.

"We'll start... here." Quark laid a hand lightly on Odo's chest. Though that was far from the first time Quark had done that, somehow here, in the dark, in bed, with just the two of them, it felt... different.

Contrary to what many humanoid species' literature suggested, hearts were not essential to emotion. Odo had always been able to feel emotions strongly even though he basically never bothered to create a heart for himself when he took on a form. But now that he had a body, he felt he understood a little bit better why humanoids mistakenly made that association. The organ seemed to leap into life by itself whenever he was feeling any emotion, thudding loud and strong in his chest.

So it was doing now.

Quark's hand lay motionless on Odo's chest for a while, until Odo's heartbeat and breathing gradually slowed from their peak to a more normal tempo. Then Quark began to move his hand up and down in slow circles, small at first, then gradually branching out. His hand slid across Odo's shoulders and down to his stomach, the other gently peeling Odo's arms and blanket away from his torso as needed. The only thing separating Quark's hand from bare skin was the thin material of Odo's pajamas.

As Quark's fingers brushed along the sides of Odo's stomach, he could feel his muscles twitch instinctively underneath them. The motions felt vaguely pleasant, some parts of his skin seeming to tingle in anticipation of the sweeping motion, but it wasn't exactly arousing. It was more the opposite, soothing, soporific, like a lullaby. This went on for a long time, so long that Odo began to become frustrated, wondering if the Ferengi had perhaps misunderstood what Odo had asked of him.

Just as he was thinking this, the pattern changed, dipping lower to run along his hips down to the tops of his thighs. Odo felt his breath hitch in his throat at the new sensation. The repetitive up and down motions were much the same as before just in a different area, from the stomach to the thighs, steering clear of Odo's cock, nails tracing along his pelvis instead.

Odo closed his eyes. Quark was right—when he focused on the sensations, his body still responded, his member stiffening and twitching upward even though Quark hadn't touched it.

Quark's hand traced downward, slipping between Odo's legs, and when it flowed upward again, it came so close to brushing against Odo's cock. At the touch, Odo felt a low groan involuntarily escape his lungs and he froze at the sound, so loud in the prevailing silence. His muscles tensed, jaws clenching together. Quark noticed and paused momentarily, before reassuring Odo, "Don't worry, that's normal." His fingers resumed their motion. "It's helpful, actually. Lets you know that whatever you're doing, it's working."

And Quark kept on going, doing what he had been doing, again and again, until Odo's member was throbbing almost painfully. His fingers clenched together on top of the mattress in an attempt to manage the intense feeling.

Then slowly, almost gingerly, Quark's fingers slid beneath clothes, under the waistband of the trousers that Odo wore to tug the cloth downwards. Odo's member sprung free, warm against the cold air.

Quark placed fingers on it gently and stroked up and down, fingers tracing lightly along the ridges. "They gave you a Bajoran one," he remarked, surprised. Then: "Wait, that makes sense."

_"Quark,"_ Odo growled, voice dripping with menace. 

"Right, shutting up," Quark said quickly, returning to his task.

Odo could feel the anger rise up in his chest. Here too, Quark didn't seem to be purposely trying to rile him, but the comment had upset Odo anyway. Why was it that even the smallest, most normal, most private details of _this_ body managed to attract undue scrutiny? (Why was it that Quark knew a Bajoran penis from feel.)

Odo's bitter feelings sunk into the background, though, at what Quark was doing with his cock—first sliding lightly up and down with the pads of fingers, and then the whole palm wrapping around the member, like enveloping it in a hug that moved up and down its length; then pressing it flat against his belly and rubbing heavily.

"Mmh—" Again, that sound came out of his throat, unexpected, like it was tugged out of him. Odo wanted more, faster, and thankfully Quark obliged, picking up speed.

In the quiet and the darkness, it was almost trancelike, that pumping. The steady rhythm, the constant, unending stimulation, was almost comforting.

"Oh," Odo said as the sensations suddenly became more intense. For a few moments, he felt lost in them, and then his muscles were moving, spasming of their own accord, and he gasped as seed spilled forth, forced into the air and dripping down the sides of his cock.

The orgasm was briefer than he thought it'd be, a few seconds of heady pleasure, a few more of involuntary muscle spasms that gradually slowed and faded in strength, like faint echoes of the first, stronger ones.

Quark's motions also became slower and his grip softer until his fingers opened entirely. He turned to face Odo and for a moment they just sat in silence, the dim lights from the room illuminating the outlines of Quark's face and reflecting off the shiny surface of his eyes. "Well," Quark said, standing up and neatening his pajamas with a hand. "That's how you do it," he said, crossing back over to a storage closet and rifling through its contents. "What did you think?"

"Wait, is that it?"

"'Is that it'?!" came Quark's voice from across the room, indignant, wounded. "You really know how to bruise a guy's ego. Here." He returned, tossing a handkerchief onto Odo's chest. "You might want to, uh, clean up."

Odo closed his fingers around the silky texture of the handkerchief Quark had given him. "I just meant that I thought there would be something more... Penetration..." he explained as he wiped the sticky liquid off his member and where it had fallen on his stomach and legs.

"Well, _that_ can be arranged. But I thought it best to start simple."

"But... what about you, your entertainment, your pleasure—isn't that all that you care about?" Quark getting him off and not asking for anything in return? It seemed... lopsided. And not at all like Quark.

"It is," Quark readily admitted, wiping down his fingers with a handkerchief of his own. "And I got it. When you're involved, Constable, things are rarely _not_ entertaining. And there's more to the pleasures of sex than orgasms, you know. Well, you'll see what I mean. Someday. Maybe."

Even with this explanation, Odo found it hard to accept this... whatever this was, was over, and that Quark was returning to his own bed.

 _Stay._ The word formed itself in Odo's mind but stuck in his throat, and Quark was already halfway across the room. A few seconds later he had settled into his bunk and had closed the blinds behind him, leaving Odo in the darkness, the quiet, alone. On his own to process whatever had just happened. His head spun in disbelief that he had done that, that Quark had agreed, that it had just... happened.

Odo was so out of it that it was a full fifteen minutes before he realized he couldn't find his blanket. He spent a few minutes checking whether it had fallen from the bed or gotten pushed into some corner before he realized the obvious: Quark had taken it.


End file.
